Evil doesn't always suck
by BGJ
Summary: Sam and Dean stop to check into a group of people with no apparent connection that have all gone silent with no explainable reason. What they discover is good doesn't always suck, sometimes it wants so much more. This is a story with an actual plot, not just mindless smutt, although there will be some very nice parts ;) It contains Wincest, non-con, and *gasp* a STORY!


I don't own Supernatural. If I did, this would be an episode, not a story on a web site. :)

**Caution contains Wincest, of a not so consensual type.

* * *

The car slowed to a halt and Dean stepped out to fill the tank, "So tell me again what we're doing here?" he said through the open window.

"Through the last month five people have all been committed to the local psychiatric ward, none uttering a single word since they were found." Sam said, holding up a news article about a prominent local businessman and him mental decline. "That many people don't just... Is there any point to even talking to you right now?" A blond in cut off jean shorts and a shirt that hardly covered her chest had stepped out of her car and began fueling it, pulling Deans attention away.

Dean, eyes never leaving the blond offered a deal to his brother, "Tell ya what, I get her number we move on past this dull town, tomorrow morning of course. I don't we stay and look into your little coo coo nest idea. Deal?"

"Deal." Sam agreed with a smirk.

Sam watched as Dean approached and began with what looked like small talk. He liked to reel them in a bit before making the big move. A few moments later, the pump stopped filling and Sam leaned his head out the window. With his best feminine voice Sam hollered across the lot, "Dean! Darling the pump is done and were going to be late to my parents place!"

Dean turned red and even from where he sat, Sam could see the scowl forming on Deans face. A gritted "Coming _dear_." was his only response. As he walked away he could hear the girl ask herself why all the hot ones were gay, and he cringed to himself.

* * *

Sam flipped through a stack of paperwork, each containing all the information he could find on each person he believed to be targets of whatever this thing was. "It doesn't make sense. The only connection these people seem to have is that they are all men. Ages ranging from 17 to 48, this one a businessman that built his company from the ground up, this one a local high school student, even a homeless man in a local shelter."

"Maybe that's because there is no connection Sam. No one is dieing, no one is seeing crazy things. Not even any local legends that fit what were seeing." Dean replied. Sam continued to look through the pages over and over again. "Ok, new deal we talk to some of the family or friends of the first guy, if nothing in our job description seems to jump out, we move on."

Sam, seeing no facts to fight back with nodded agreement before putting down the folder and laying down to go to sleep.

* * *

First thing in the morning Sam and Dean set off to look around the home of the first victim. "John Moss, built his business up from a small shop in his basement to having 5 computer repair shops in state." Sam informed Dean as they looked for signs out of the ordinary. It looked as though John lived alone. No pictures of anyone seeming to be closer then a friend, in the bedroom, only mens clothing. Bathroom was the same, cologne and combs, no perfumes brushes or any signs of a woman.

"It doesn't look like theres been any woman in here in a long time. No wonder he went nuts." Dean commented. Sam just rolled his eyes and headed for the front door. "Last chance Sammy Boy. Lets talk to some of his business partners."

* * *

"So Mr. Moss had no family at all? No friends? Nothing?" Sam pushed.

"He put everything into this place. We were all surprised to hear he was even taking a vacation, then we found out he was planning to expand outside of the country and it made sense. Although why he though about a phone support center located in South America would be a good idea was beyond me." The Associate paused and looked slightly embarrassed before continuing. "I'm sorry, I was just recalling some of the stories John brought back."

"We would hate to waste any more of your time, we will be on our way." Dean said giving Sam an annoyed _were wasting our time_ kind of look.

"Are you sure there was no one? Not even a," Sam paused searching for the best word.

"A Mistress?" The man offered.

"For lack of better terms yes." Sam replied wishing he hadn't asked.

"Not that I know of. But it seems like you boys are really trying to help..." After a brief sigh of resignation he continued, "John had a bit of a drinking problem. Not sure what bar he went to, but on more then one occasion I picked him up on the corner of Main and 42nd street so drunk he could hardly walk. His hang out cant be too far from there. Maybe there is a barkeep out there that can help."

* * *

The music could be heard pounding through the wall as a blue eyed college kid, home on vacation, stepped up to the urinal. The room had a fuzzy edge from all the vodka, and he put one hand against the wall to brace himself as the other freed his cock and directed the stream. No sooner did he begin to relieve himself when he felt a hand slide around his waste. "Well look what Santa brought me. I never have had the patience to wait until Christmas to open my gifts." whispered a voice in his ear. Another hand came around the other side and gripped his ever stiffening member.

"My boyfriend is waiting for me at the bar. I should be doing this." The man behind him turned the blue eyed boy to face him and smiled a mischievous grin. "Oh, Justin! I hadn't recognized your voice. Must be a little horse from all that karaoke." With a flirtatious tone he continued "I have just the cure for that."

The two slipped into a stall and began kissing furiously. Justin pulled down his partners still undone pants and sucked the throbbing cock only for a moment before standing and releasing his own stiffened rod. Justin grabbed his lovers head and stopped him from returning the favor, "Justin, what are you..." blue eyes peered through the dark shaggy locks to meet the brown eyes within and his voice locked up as a fire burned within the pupils.

* * *

Within the noisy bar Justin sat waiting for his lover to return so they could leave for the night. They had big plans to meet his family the following day and much rest would be needed for enough energy to deal with that kind of crazy. Justin ordered another drink for himself and one last one for Keith as he looked around wondering what could be taking so long.

_So I know. Probably not too good, but I couldn't help myself. I want to write some Wincest and I promise it's coming in the conclusion to the story. I guess that is if you my fans want a conclusion. _

_Aww hell who am I kidding. I want it too much to not write it. _

_Please honest and critical opinions. I want to improve my writing so some day I can write something I can let my family read. Because who wants to try explaining what "Wincest" is to their mother and how it does not mean I want to have sex with my brothers... Ewww..._


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